


Among the Willows

by culpaeros (electriicl0ve)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Cowboys & Cowgirls, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 16:12:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electriicl0ve/pseuds/culpaeros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ShizuoxIzaya. The life of an outlaw was never one Shizuo Heiwajima had imagined for himself. But this doesn't seem to be a good enough reason for that flea of a bounty hunter, Izaya Orihara, to give up stalking his trail. Cowboy AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Among the Willows

Defeat.

Helpless Defeat

The feeling was not a pleasant one to feel when a male spent the entirety of his adult life fighting a battle without an enemy. Struggling to win a war against no one but the elements themselves. A war of survival in a terrain that was familiar in its unfamiliarity. Recognizable despite having never been seen.

Ting

The distinct sound of dip being spit into a nearby spittoon did little to lift the funk that had befallen over a certain blond. Cowboy hat hanging limply in one hand, strong arms covered in muscle and dirt rested atop equally mussed pants while the seated male laid them on top of his knees.

Dejection

"What the fuck is Heiwajima being held for?"

"Don't concern ya none ol' man"

"'course it concern me! I'm a man short everyday he in 'ere!"

Ting

"He ain't going' nowhere anytime soon so keep walkin' 'ollis"

Why would he be in here?

Why would someone who spent his whole life walking the side of the law suddenly wind up behind bars?

Shizuo!

Why would someone like me wind up in here?

"He didn't kill that girl!"

"Ain't got an alibi"

"I'm his fucking alibi!"

Ting

"Now look here ol' man"

The sound of a chair creaking as it was placed back properly on its legs makes my skin bristle with goosebumps.

"Sheriff caught him as red-handed as someone can get. He staying until they can bring 'im to trial"

"More like they will feed 'im to the mob! Where's the sheriff?"

"He went fo' a drink"

"The hell? He supposed to be working!"

"You ain't the only one affected by this 'ollis. Now get back to your ranch and don't bother the sheriff none. Heiwajima stays"

The sound of my one time boss, old man Hollis', boots scuffing along the creaking wood is like the final chimes of the church bells death tolls to me. My hand unconsciously tightens around my hat and I feel the last shred of my hope at going back to a normal life leaving with him.

With a sigh I finally lift my head to glance towards the one window that offers any view to the outside in my jail cell. Its high up, evidently meant to be teasing for the drunkards they most often use the jailhouse for but for some one as tall as me it was just about eye level. The orange and reds of the setting sun reflect off the dust and dirt floating around the bars in a sensuous dance. The only company left for me…

until nightfall.

Tensing up my muscles, I heave a breath as I quickly rise with a stretch. A groan slips through my lips when it feels like I pulled something in my lower back so I swiftly place the palm of the hand holding my hat on that sore spot and arch until a joint pops. Grimacing slightly , I mimic this stretching with my neck next until two swift pops hint at the joints loosening up. Guess it didn't help any that id been sitting in that same position for the last several hours, probably ever since the sheriff dragged me in here.

"Oiii!"

My voice comes out as rough as the sand that I have spent the last several years of my life drinking from the very air here in Texas. It is greeted by the sound of startled feet landing on the ground, another ringing of the spittoon and hasty footsteps running towards my cell.

"Finally speaking, chinaman?"

I scowl at the insult. Never mind the fact that Ive proven myself more capable and hardy than the so called hard broiled boys America churns out. And nevermind that he knows I'm fucking Japanese. All that vanishes when you're accused of murder.

"Water."

Its not a request nor a question, but rather a demand as my eyes stare coldly down at the deputy. He doesn't seem to take this well as evident by the inappropriate words that spill out of his mouth followed swiftly by an arm reaching through the bars to grab my shirt. He tries to pull me towards him, perhaps in a show of power but fails rather pitifully.

"You don't need any"

He releases me with a slight shove. It was enough to make a lesser man stumble backwards but that ain't me. All that happened was my shoulder moved slightly as I maintained my gaze upon the brunette. "Gonna be hung soon 'nuff anyway"

As night fell I found myself sitting once more in that same position as earlier. There was a bed in the jail cell but one look at the bare mattress told me that if I had a choice I wouldn't want to go anywhere near it. Who knows what kind of other people have occupied it. The only thing that keeps me company for the longest time is the sound of the spittoon ringing out every half hour or so as the deputy chews more and more of his tar. The sheriff it seemed wouldn't be returning from his bender anytime soon that night. He was friends with the father of the dead girl, it only made sense that he'd be drinking away his responsibility at being unable to prevent her 'murder'.

Heavy lids slid shut over my tired eyes. It was getting close to that time of the year when the cattle drivers would come to take the animals north to Kansas. As a result the hands that worked around the ranch were tireless in their endeavors to get everything straightened out before they did. Me included. Just the thought of all the work I had left behind makes a bead of sweat dew in anticipation of the torturous tasks. Swiftly I wipe it away before sliding my legs out to rest in front of me.

Reaching into my pocket I pull out a rectangular instrument, my own initials engraved into the metal. S-H. A gift from from someone that other people would label a good friend to me. Id probably just call him annoying.

Lifting the harmonica to my lips, I cup my hands slightly behind it before sucking in my breath to receive a satisfactory note from it. Not a second later the familiar howl of a coyote gives me reason to pause. Glancing towards the bars keeping me locked away I cant help but grin. It is one of those 'I know something you don't know' grins that if directed towards me would have pissed me off. But instead of the familiar anger that I'm prone to experience all that fills my soul is the sense of calm acceptance.

Replacing the instrument upon my lips a familiar song begins to come out as I go through the motions. The volume starts out low before slowly rising. But even at its loudest it doesn't successfully block out the noises of a scuffle that abruptly begins to occur just out of my sight. The sound of a body being slammed around is accompanied by the familiar ching of spurs until finally a loud thud hints at the deputy's body being dropped over the railing of the patio and onto the dirt outside.

My music doesn't stop playing until the rustling of a set of keys being turned in the nearby lock gives me reason to pause. Opening my eyes once more I am greeted by the hidden face of a young woman. One whom I knew from memory was pretty in her own way save for a scar that extended completely around her neck.

"Celty…"

Despite my earlier confidence there is a sense of relief in seeing my best friend here. Her eyes are somewhat blank but I can recognize the small upturn of her rosy lips from beneath the black bandanna that covers her face as she twirls the key ring around an index finger before me.

Idly I begin to dust myself off as I stand to approach the black clad female. Her hat is low over her forehead and the bandanna is obviously meant more for hiding her identity this time around than to protect from dust getting into her lungs. She pulls me into a hug as I get close and almost automatically my arms wrap around her slim frame as well. "I didn't do it you know." I can feel her nodding against my shoulder before we finally disentangle ourselves. We don't speak of the brief exchange of emotion, instead all we do is offer each other one last comforting look before she guides me out of the jail.

"About time."

Nervous eyes are wide behind his spectacles as Shinra eyes the two tall horses that he holds the reins to in both hands. "Sheriff could come back any minute" The doctor's eyes slide away from the animals to look at Celty and I as we draw near. Almost like it called out to him he notices the harmonica in my hand and his brief terror is replaced by a smug look. Swiftly I try to hide the evidence of my having used it by shoving it into my jean pockets. "I knew you liked it" Despite the gravity of the situation a chuckle managed to slip through my lips as I shake my head at him.

"What now then?"

In an effort to change the subject from his gift I glance at the two tall horses on either side of Shinra. One had to be almost nineteen hands tall, no way the small doctor had ridden it. "Now, you run." One set of reins are handed to Celty while the doctor steps forward to give me the other ones. "Run?" Anger permeates my voice at the very notion and it is only because of his nerves at the idea of being caught that Shinra clamps his now free hand over my mouth. "You can't stay here Shizuo! The whole town is itching to hang you come morning!" I scowl from underneath Shinra's hand before finally yanking it away from my mouth. "Their evidence wont hold up in court! I deserve a trial!"

"Deserving and actually getting one are two separate things! Use your head for christ's sake."

The reins are forced into my hands and the doctors expression wipes free of the fear plaguing him in his brief anger over my reluctance to leave.

"Celty will lead you to a camp not far from here where an old friend of mine is waiting. He'll help you hide until we can straighten everything out here"

Celty's already on her horse, impatience reflecting in her eyes as she begins to pull at her reins to make the black beast move. I grind my teeth slightly before finally shoving my foot into the stirrup. Placing one hand upon the back of the saddle and the other around the horn I heave myself onto the seat with a practiced ease before sliding my second foot into the other stirrup. Tugging backwards on the reins - so that the morgan horse's head moves up and he begins to back away from Shinra - I offer the doctor only one good bye.

"Don't get yourself killed over me Shinra."

Shinra's laugh echos almost hauntingly in the night air as me and Celty simultaneously dig our spurs into the horses sides to make them take off into a fast gallop. The horses won't be able to maintain that speed for long but we are both aware that it's the first few minutes of this so-called escape that will matter the most.

Since our horses will swerve if we do, neither of us bother to chance a glance back. Instead we decide to make due with that last image of Shinra happily laughing near the deputy's beaten up body. Or at least I do. Even if she wanted to, there was no way I would let Celty become a fugitive with me.

"How far away is this friend?"

Celty shuffles her reins for a bit to gather them into the hand also clutching her saddles horn before she holds the other one up to me.

"Three Leagues?"

She nods, eyes finally sliding over to glance at me.

"Do I know him?"

She shrugs. Celty had been here for only two years. She had been a cattle driver before the accident. However when a person is thrown from a horse and nearly killed as their neck gets caught in some ranchers barbed wires the urge to go back out into the action dissipates rather fast. How she could even stand being on a horse to work at the ranch was anyone's guess. If anything it was probably that one horse that made all the difference. I have never seen her ride any other one besides the pure black beast.

Heart pounding I fall silent. There was no use in speaking to someone who couldn't answer back and at least this way I can pretend we're just going for another nightly ride...instead of running away from those who would want to see me dead.

The ride to wherever Celty is taking me is shorter than I would like it to be. Mostly because I know once we get to wherever it is we are going she will have to leave. But there wasn't a chance or a reason to delay. Not when my life hangs in the balance. If my horse slowed down at all it was only because it was growing tired. They can never remain in a full-fledged gallop for long. It wore too much at the horse.

Suddenly Celty's knees tightened around her horse before she pulled back upon her reins. Mimicking her movements, we both pull the horses to a complete stop near the edge of some woods. She doesn't give me a chance to ask why we had stopped as the dirt seems to have barely settled and shes dismounting to head into the area on foot.

Swinging a leg over, my boots let out a muted thud when my weight settles onto the ground. Looping one of the western reins under the horse's neck, I gather them both into one hand and begin to guide the creature into the dark woods after her. Celty is already well ahead of me but it's easy for my long legs to close the distance.

Some part of me would like to say the woods were quiet save for our breaths and the horses occasional sputters but that would be a lie. The country is never silent be it in or out of the woods. Even the very grass made noises thanks to the gentle winds that flowed through the land.

"Hey Cel-"

The familiar sound of a gun cocking causes me to freeze midstep. My body is instantly tensing up and if possible every single one of my senses increases almost correspondingly with my racing heart.

"This way."

A voice that echoes like a memory long forgotten suddenly speaks out in the darkness. My eyes dart to Celty as my entire body screams to prepare for the worst but she doesn't seem to share my hesitance. Instead she is turning her horse and striding easily to the side where I can just make out a figure darting back between some trees.

Clamping my mouth shut and trying to still my pounding heart I follow her into the thicket. I don't dare to speak, not yet sure if we are really safe or if we have just gotten ourselves into a more dangerous situation than the one we left. She, of course, cant tell me. I do know some sign language but my skills aren't adept enough to be able to read whatever words she could possibly flash across to me in this darkness.

"You two almost went right by me."

That voice speaks out again just as my horse breaks through some trees and we found ourselves in a rather small clearing. There is a small tent set up not too far away from us along with a bag and other miscellaneous things needed to traverse through the wilderness. However the items don't hold my attention long before Im looking at the male who I can now see clearly in the moonlight breaking through the trees.

He is taller than Shinra but still shorter than me. His skin is tanned - more so than mine and probably as a consequence of living out of doors – while his hair is long and appears to be braided in a peculiar fashion. Perhaps as a way to keep maintenance of it down. But the ruggidity of his looks stops there. His face is familiar, if not a little thinner than I remember, and his eyes smile with his lips in a compassionate expression.

"Tom?"

There were very few Japanese immigrants to America at the time that my own family relocated here. Even fewer out here in the west. It only made sense that at the time of my birth my parents had found a place up north with a few other Japanese families. The schoolhouse they sent us to was mostly white so us Japanese kids tended to stick together as much as our parents did. One of those kids was a year older than both me and Shinra and as a consequence sat two rows in front of us in the schoolhouse. Tanaka Tom. When Shinra's dad heard from a fellow doctor that they needed more skilled hands in the south both he and I had tagged along with our scholarly friend. Only sixteen and seventeen at the time, Shinra found a friend of a friend who could give him more training and I found work where I could. But Tom could never find something suited for him. When an opportunity to do some work with the pony express presented itself Tom had seized it. The occasional letter then was the only thing we had to know that he was doing alright.

"That really you?"

I tie my horses reins to an extending branch of a nearby tree before I begin to close the distance between us.

At my approach the two of us bow before grinning and clasping hands. It is a mixing of cultures that is as natural to us as breathing. Plus all bowing ever did was show who was more humble or who held power over who. In America it was more about one's individual character. And what better judge is there to a person's character at a first meeting than how they shake a man's hand? Tom's, I immediately note, is firm. Not strong per se but more like a steady, unrelenting grasp.

"Shizuo, its been awhile."

He clasps his second hand over my own, giving it one last hardy shake before releasing me. By this time Celty has tied up her horse as well and is vying for my attention.

Tom seems less confused about why she isn't speaking and more confused about what shes saying as her hands began to whirl in a speed so fast that I have trouble keeping up.

"Shinra is expecting her back"

I fall naturally into my role of translator for Tom. If I'm guessing right I'd say Shinra had met Tom sometime between my initial arresting and break out since introductions don't appear to be necessary.

"But Celty wh-"

Her head shakes, vehement in not letting me interrupt her.

"I can't possibly-"

"No it's alright Shizuo."

Tom interrupts us both from where he has crouched near his backpack. He tosses an apple towards me and at the very sight of the food my stomach growls. I had forgotten I had not eaten since breakfast.

"I know someone who can help you."

It seems my translations are unnecessary as Tom concludes that Celty is explaining why I would be depending on a childhood friend who I have not even seen for several years now.

Unfortunately Tom's not speaking long until Celty is snapping in my face, trying to get my attention back.

She points an index finger at me and slightly startled by the severity of her expression I take a step back. It's one of those 'if you get hurt out there I'll fucking kill you' expressions before she suddenly throws herself into me for another hug.

"I'll be fine, promise."

My voice is gruff with emotion. After having lived with her and Shinra for so many back breaking hard years its kind of impossible not to feel the overpowering pain at being forced to separate under these circumstances.

"You and Shinra don't need to worry about me."

She shakes her head against my chest before her shoulders rise as she takes a supportive breath through a damaged throat before pulling back again.

"We will get to the bottom of this. And you, you will write to us often. We will send word as soon as it is safe to come back"

I nod, voice lost in the grief of leaving behind what little family I have left.

Unable to stay a moment longer to force ourselves through this hard goodbye Celty turns back towards her horse. Undoing the small knot she moves it from the tree before quickly sliding into her black saddle.

We share one last look of regret before she's turning and riding back the way we had come. Leaving me to wallow in a mistake that I didn't even make.


End file.
